


Stellamor

by glaciernoswag (kaashmoneybb)



Series: lightning strikes twice [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Background Relationships, Creampie, Declarations Of Love, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Jealous Suna, M/M, Power Bottom Komori, Suna simping, SunaOsa besties, Weddings, suna pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaashmoneybb/pseuds/glaciernoswag
Summary: Suna and Komori attend a wedding with their friends. Now that they're official, Suna thinks about how happy he's been since he told Komori everything. He thinks about all of the things he lovesaboutKomori– does he love Komori, though? Spoiler alert: yes.
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Suna Rintarou
Series: lightning strikes twice [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147046
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53
Collections: Valentine's Day 2021: The Cupid Shuffle Crossover





	Stellamor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for having a look at this fic. It's very dear to my heart and I hope it makes you smile. 
> 
> This fic is both a sequel to Parastellar and part of a Valentine's Day collaboration project - see notes at the end. I'm also introducing the _lightning strikes twice_ series as my version of canon compliant sunakomo relationship, which holds just two installments now, but I may add more to in the future!
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and Happy Valentine's Day!

Over Valentine's Day weekend, Suna and Komori had a wedding to attend. 

Shugo Meian and Nicolas Romero were the grooms to be and all of V.League’s favorite faces were going to be in attendance. They’d come from across Japan (and some, the world) to converge on one hi-rise Tokyo hotel, which would host both the ceremony and reception. It was Suna and Komori’s first time having an excuse to spend a night away together (besides travel matches, which didn’t count, according to Komori), so they’d decided to book a room for Friday and Saturday night, giving them ample time to celebrate with their long distance friends that would be in town. After practice Friday morning, they’d made their way to the hotel and settled into their room with one king size bed– a nice upgrade from what either of them had at home. Dinner was a brief affair with Osamu and his wedding date Yamaguchi, whom Suna had heard about through texts with his high school buddy and Komori had yet to meet. Unsurprisingly, Komori hit it off with both of them, and they’d all left the restaurant looking forward to spending time together at the wedding itself. 

They’d returned to their hotel room to spend the rest of the night relaxing before the big event the next day.

Komori bounced on Suna’s cock leisurely. His cum painted Suna’s chest down the midline, the thinner splotches now drying against his skin. Avoiding the areas covered in his own release, his fingers traced gently on Suna’s stomach, appreciating the way his abs flexed as he tried to hold himself back.

He dipped his thumb into one of the globs of cum and then reached up to flick Suna’s nipple lightly, spreading the cooled liquid across it as he swiped up and down over the bud. 

“Close,” Suna panted out, throat tight, hips bucking up.

Komori stopped moving, sitting still on his cock, and quickly pulled his hand back, leaving Suna breathing hard and digging his nails into his forearms above his head, eyes squeezed shut and face pained.

Komori’s top lip curled up. 

“Poor baby, bet you wanna flip me over and fuck me face down, don’t you? Give it to me real hard? Doesn’t sound so bad, actually,” Komori teased, pretending to contemplate the idea as he stroked his chin and wiggled his hips, making Suna moan.

“Please, baby, I’ll do anything, fuck, don’t you want me to fuck you? I’ll do it however you want, anything, I–”

Komori clicked his tongue, interrupting his plea. “You’re already 20 minutes in,” he said, glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “And I even gave you a pass, ‘cause I’m a nice guy,” he continued, smirking. Suna’s cum from his orgasm nine minutes ago was coating his own shaft and dripping out onto his balls from Komori’s asshole. He was supposed to have lasted for 30 minutes, but Komori told him he’d let that one slide, since he liked being filled up by him anyways. “Or do you just want my cock that badly?” 

“Ugh, fuck, okay, keep going,” Suna groaned, grabbing his own elbows and pressing his crossed arms into the bridge of his nose.

The punishment for failing to last was that the next time they had sex, Komori topped. Which wasn’t really a punishment for either of them, since they _had_ done it before (though both of them preferred it the other way), but Komori had found that Suna was surprisingly motivated to behave when his ass was at stake. With the other incentives they’d tried, like paying for their next meal out, Suna would grab Komori by the waist out of frustration halfway through and toss him on the bed, forgetting about the edging and railing him. Which Komori always ended up forgiving him for because he was a pushover and did love getting railed by his boyfriend’s huge cock. 

Komori was the one who’d asked Suna to try edging. It was something he particularly enjoyed doing to others. While he was appreciative of Suna’s efforts and willingness to be his subject (bless his heart), he was really, really, bad at it.

It was still thrilling to mess with him, though, and Suna didn’t seem to be bothered by his repeated failures. There was, at this point, an unspoken expectation that Suna was _definitely_ going to break.

Komori reached out and batted at Suna’s arm.

“Move, let me see your face,” he demanded. 

Suna’s arms slid apart and flopped on the bed lifelessly. He stared up at Komori with flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, biting at his lower lip, contemplating if he could get away with jackhammering him from below.

“Do me again,” Komori ordered, shifting on Suna’s cock and setting his hands on his own hips, looking down at him disdainfully. 

Suna fumbled for the bottle of lube and then poured some into his palm. He reached out and started stroking Komori’s cock, rubbing his thumb on the underside of the head. He cupped his balls in his other hand, massaging and pressing on them, the corner of his mouth twitching up in satisfaction when Komori’s head tilted back and he gasped out.

“Fuck, just like that,” Komori groaned, starting to move again slowly while Suna worked him.

“Yeah? Is that good? You like when I play with your balls like that, don’t you? Fuck, I wanna fuck you so bad,” Suna said through gritted teeth, trying to concentrate on Komori’s dick and not the way he was tightening around him.

The sound of Suna’s slicked up hand moving fast and with purpose filled the room, along with both of their shallow, quick breaths. Komori kept rolling his hips with each tiny lift, getting Suna’s cock to push against his prostate. He whined as Suna twisted his wrist in an upward stroke. 

Suna felt his gut coiling as soon as he heard Komori’s little moan. He loved to make him sound like that.

“I’m close, you gotta– stop moving, fuck, or I’m gonna–”

Suna’s eyes snapped shut again, his brow furrowing and lips parting, taking intentional deep breaths to force back an orgasm while doing his best to bring Komori there.

Komori sat still as requested, aware of the underlying point of what they were doing, but clenched around his cock, back jolting ramrod straight and face tilting to the ceiling. As his shifting ceased it gave Suna a brief reprieve, allowing him to catch his breath, open his eyes, and firm his grip around Komori’s dick.

“Ah– Rintarou, I’m gonna cum, don’t stop,” Komori gasped, voice choked up as Suna tried to wrench out his orgasm. 

“Cum for me baby, you can do it,” Suna said, picking up his pace in one last surge, pressing a finger in right behind Komori’s balls. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the focus it took to keep from tipping while riding so close to the edge.

Komori hurtled past it.

“Fuck!” he groaned, shuddering as he came again over Suna’s chest.

“Yeah, keep cumming for me, FUCK, Toya, fuck, close, I’m fucking close!” Suna said, sultry at first, but then breathless and stuttering, disoriented and losing control as Komori’s cum pumped over his hand and his asshole contracted around his cock. His eyes flashed up to Komori’s face desperately, like he was already asking for forgiveness, then widened briefly in panic, before squeezing shut tight in ecstasy.

“Fuck, I can’t– oh _fuck_.”

While Komori was sitting on his cock, breathing heavily after his own release, Suna started cumming, hips jerking up and eyes rolling back. A moan ripped from his chest as he grabbed Komori’s thighs, pulling him down impossibly closer as his balls emptied inside him again.

“M- mo- toya,” he groaned, head falling back against the pillow. “So _goood_ , fuck.”

Komori reached out and held his face, brushing his thumb over Suna’s cheek, conscious of the dull warmth pooling inside him. He glanced at the clock, then leaned down, kissing Suna’s lips. Suna opened his mouth for Komori’s tongue with another moan, loud shaky breaths puffing out of his nose as he shivered and twitched in pleasure.

Komori pressed kisses across his jaw and ran his fingers through his hair. With his cleaner hand Suna reached up to do the same, opening his eyes with an expression of dopey bliss as Komori brought his face into view, tilting his head so their foreheads touched.

“Dammit,” Suna mumbled between breaths, kissing the corner of Komori’s mouth. “Don’t tell me.”

Komori huffed out a gentle laugh, grinning affectionately. “Yeah.”

Suna dropped his head back to the pillow and Komori sat up straight again, reaching for the box of tissues.

“Fuck, how close was I though? That was totally your fault,” Suna complained, holding the back of his hand to his forehead and wincing when Komori dismounted him.

“Like, two more minutes,” Komori responded, stuffing the tissue under himself quickly to catch the cum running out before he could clench up and hold it in, flopping onto his back next to Suna and then wiping his dick off. 

“God dammit,” Suna said. He grabbed a few tissues and cleaned up his chest, grimacing at the double load he had to mop up. He took Komori’s tissues from him and tossed all of them into the bin next to the bed. He turned his head to the right on the pillow, smiling and reaching out to tap his fingers on Komori’s stomach. “Need water?”

“Mhm,” Komori mumbled, turning on his side and clinging to Suna’s arm. His eyes were closed.

Suna glanced at the nightstand. His glass was empty. He sat up, intending to go refill it for them, but Komori sensed his motion and his hands tightened on Suna’s arm, restraining him. 

“Where you going?” Komori said, rather adorably, angling his face to blink up at Suna as he looked back over his shoulder and down at him.

“Water,” Suna reminded him.

Komori wrinkled his nose. “No water then. Stay and cuddle.”

“Alright. Big baby,” Suna said.

“You’re the big baby. I’m older than you and you’re bigger than me. Literally a big baby.”

“Nah. You’re baby. Baby is the one that calls the other one daddy.”

“Never said that before in my life. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay.”

Suna slipped back into bed, taking Komori into his arms and smiling when Komori snuggled into his chest and sighed deeply against his collarbone. 

They cuddled for ten minutes until they wanted to look at their phones (and Komori allowed Suna to get them water). Then they sat in bed scrolling next to each other for an hour, Komori’s cheek squished against Suna’s shoulder. When they finally decided it was time to shower, Suna had to scoop Komori up bridal style and carry him into the bathroom so that he wouldn’t leak cum on the bedding, since room service wouldn’t change it until the next morning. They showered efficiently, no energy left for fooling around, only handing each other the hotel toiletries considerately when they switched places under the water.

Suna ordered a pizza from room service. They finished it off between the two of them as a late night snack while they half-watched game shows on cable. 

After getting ready for bed, they turned off the lights, leaving the flashing images on the screen to cast light on their faces. 

Suna picked up the remote, clicking the volume down, muffling the over-excited voice of the host and the audience’s laughter. He looked to his right to check on Komori. He was laying flat on his back, one hand splayed up next to his head, one tossed over his stomach, mouth open slightly as he took peaceful, unconscious breaths. Suna brushed a piece of hair off of his forehead carefully to avoid rousing him. 

He turned off the TV, sliding down to lay beside Komori. He pulled the duvet up to their shoulders and shifted his body as quietly and gently as possible, placing his arm over Komori’s waist. In the dark, he stole a look, watching him closely for a few minutes. Tonight, the red alarm clock display was Suna’s accomplice, affording him this secret view. Other nights it was the singular bulb above the stove in the kitchen that travelled down the hall and through the crack in Komori’s bedroom door, left ajar slightly for Ringo to come and go. Komori’s lips moved slightly with each breath and his fingers twitched. He started breathing deeper, with a little rumble in his chest, and Suna wondered what Komori was dreaming about. Sometimes he was right, when he made his private guess during these moments, and then asked him if he’d dreamt of anything the next day, but most times Komori said he didn’t remember. 

Suna usually remembered his dreams, but he said the same thing when Komori asked him. He wondered if that meant Komori was lying too. He smiled.

He pressed his lips softly to Komori’s temple, lingering as long as he pleased, before closing his eyes.

* * *

When Suna woke up, he found Komori staring at him. 

He smiled and shifted closer to him automatically, stuffing his nose in his shoulder, nuzzling and wrapping his arms around him. He smelled perfect in the mornings after they’d slept skin to skin through the night, and his presence made the bed a safe place, the patron saint of 3.8 square meters.

He kissed his shoulder, slotting their legs together beneath the sheets, squeezing his side. His hands roamed to steal heat, the ball of fire radiating at Komori’s core making him so hot that Suna wondered if his fingers would burn.

“Mm,” Komori hummed peacefully, kissing Suna on the cheek and sliding his fingers through his hair. The room was no more quiet than it would be at any other time of day, but it felt particularly still now while yellow light filtered in through the semi opaque curtains, only the sounds of their sweet kisses and the soft rustling of the sheets interrupting its tranquility. “You’re so warm.”

Suna found it funny, the idea that his own body heat would even register for Komori, his personal furnace. “You too,” he whispered back between kisses across Komori’s collarbone, duvet pulled up to his ears, while Komori’s hand dragged up his stomach. Suna tensed. There was no need to prove anything anymore, but a small part of him was still trying anyway, and he’d probably never stop trying to be attractive for Komori. As long as he still had abs, he’d show them off to his advantage.

“So fucking sexy,” Komori muttered, like he was annoyed by it.

Suna served his punishment shortly after. They dragged themselves out of bed to shower, before heading to brunch at a cafe in the area Kita had picked out for them to meet at. _They have Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes,_ he’d informed them, as if that made it the clear choice.

Komori, for one, loved his Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes, piled high with a colorful variety of berries and whipped cream. Suna asked the waitress if they could make circular pancakes. She said no, only Mickey Mouse. He sighed and ordered omurice instead, only to receive his dish with Mickey Mouse drawn on top in ketchup anyways. Komori and Yamaguchi crushed a mimosa pitcher; Suna and Osamu shared a sigh and knowing look. He took a picture of Komori eating, cheek stuffed full of strawberries, and put it on his Instagram story, drawing on mouse ears and whiskers and adding a pink heart emoji over the tip of his nose. 

Komori took one of Suna, too– an extremely unflattering shot of him with his mouth wide open, about to take a bite. Suna tried to get him to delete it, but he secretly found it cute that Komori had decorated the screen with bursting heart animations and baby Cupids flying around.

They parted ways with Osamu, Kita, Sakusa, and Yamaguchi, and went back to their room to relax for a few hours before they had to get ready for the wedding. That ended up consisting of the two of them passing out fully clothed for a post-meal (and post-mimosa) nap. Suna woke up with a dead arm from Komori’s head crushing it, his arm and leg splayed over him, like he was a koala and Suna was his eucalyptus tree. Actually, Suna thought, he kind of looks like a koala, doesn’t he? Koalamori… Komorala… Komo koala… 

Koalamori woke up soon after, complaining that he was hungry again, interrupting Suna’s train of thought. He ordered fried chicken from room service. _That’s not what koalas eat,_ Suna told him. _What?_ Komori said.

After splitting the chicken, it was time to get dressed. Suna sat on his phone for another 30 minutes while Komori changed, before finally deciding that yeah, he should probably go shave, at least.

With 20 minutes until the ceremony, Suna ran a hand through his hair, checking himself out in the mirror, his white shirt hanging open and black pants unzipped. He turned around for a second to look at Komori, who was already dressed, relaxing in the armchair on his phone while he waited for Suna. He was in a dove gray suit, white shirt, and baby blue tie, which he was playing with in his free hand. His belt and Oxford shoes were tan leather. He looked hot.

“You look hot,” Suna commented, before turning back to the mirror and picking a random button on his shirt to start working with. “Come help me,” he suggested, using a slightly suggestive tone to hopefully get some extra attention from his boyfriend.

“Fine,” Komori sighed, setting his phone down and getting up, walking over to where Suna stood. Suna turned his back to the mirror, pressing his palms onto the desk behind him and smirking as Komori started to button his shirt for him.

“You’re so slow. We’re gonna be late,” Komori chastised him while he fidgeted with the last button, then shoved the shirt tails into his pants, hands grazing the front of his thighs and his bulge. He grabbed Suna’s black leather belt from the table. 

“We’re literally at the hotel already. We’re not gonna be late,” Suna said, looking down at Komori through half-lidded eyes as he started to snake the belt through Suna’s pants. Suna let his hips jerk forward as Komori pulled the belt tight and fastened it, shoving the loose end through to overlap. He grabbed Komori’s waist and dove to his neck, humming as he tried to kiss him. Komori dodged him and flicked him on the temple before he had the chance. 

“Stop, demon,” Komori said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek anyways. “If you’d gotten ready faster I would have sucked your dick. And now we don’t have time for that.”

“What the fuck? You gotta tell me these things, Toya! Come on!” Suna groaned as Komori snickered. Suna grabbed his jacket from the bed, sliding into it. He looked at himself in the mirror again, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt, his preferred style instead of a tie.

“Now you know. So be faster next time,” Komori said, glancing around the room to see if he needed to grab anything else before they left. 

Suna approached him from behind, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him to hold him still. “Can I suck yours? You look so good, I wanna eat you,” he said in a low voice directly into Komori’s ear, rolling his hips to press his dick into his ass at the same time.

Komori wiggled out of his grip. “Tempting, but no, we seriously need to go. It starts in fifteen minutes, we should already be sitting.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Suna grumbled.

“Says you.”

The two of them headed down to the lobby and followed the flow of people to the conservatory. Suna was typing a message out to Osamu, wondering where he was so they could sit together.

“Miya-san!” Komori called next to him, making Suna turn his head. He nodded when he saw Osamu and Yamaguchi approaching. 

“Hey, was just about to message you,” Suna greeted him while Komori was gushing over how cute Yamaguchi looked, or something.

“Wanna go in? Kita-san said he saved us some seats,” Osamu said.

“Yeah, sure. This is supposed to be like, thirty minutes, right?” Suna said, strolling next to Osamu as they walked in slowly behind the rest of the crowd, entering into the conservatory. He wrinkled his nose as the potent smell of fresh flowers and greenery filled the air. “God, stinks in here,” he complained.

“Yeah, should be done by 4:30,” Osamu replied. They stepped through the people lingering in the aisle. “‘Scuse us,” Osamu said.

They spotted Sakusa and Kita and slid into the row, Komori first to sit by his cousin, followed by Suna, Osamu, and Yamaguchi. Komori again complimented how Sakusa and Kita looked, and Suna draped his arm over the back of Komori’s chair, looking at his phone in his other hand while he waited for the ceremony to begin.

The crowd fell quiet when the music started, and the two grooms walked out to meet each other at the altar from their private rooms on opposite sides of the greenhouse. Suna had his arms crossed and was reclining comfortably in his chair, staring down his nose at a leaf by his shoe. He covered it with his foot, then uncovered it.

“Wow, they look so good!” Komori whispered, leaning slightly so Suna could hear him, but keeping his eyes glued to the couple. Their shoulders touched. Suna looked up. 

“Yeah,” he commented, truthfully, as the two strapping older men beamed at each other. He shifted in his seat, glancing to his left at Komori once and then back to the wedding party. Atsumu, Meian’s best man, looked pretty good too, he could admit. He stood with his hands behind his back, grinning, with perfectly tousled blonde hair that Suna imagined he must have spent at least an hour preening. 

The officiant welcomed the guests, and then began his spiel about romance and the meaning of love or whatever. Suna only paid attention when he was talking about Meian, chuckling at his comments that poked fun at his old mentor. Osamu to his right had his arm around Yamaguchi’s chair, and to his left Kita’s thumb brushed across Sakusa’s hand that he held on his thigh. Suna rolled his eyes.

The ceremony drew his attention again when Meian cleared his throat for his vows. Suna was happy for the couple, but he was looking forward to hearing what sappy things they had to say about each other. Weddings were pretty cringe to start with. Getting up in front of all of your friends and family to talk about how much you love each other and kissing? Not something he planned on ever doing. Well, maybe, he reasoned with himself quickly, but not for a few years. He was still bad at saving money and would need to in order to get a nice enough ring for someone. He made a mental note to check out the budgeting app that his mom kept telling him to download. 

He glanced down at his watch discreetly to see how far along they were. Ten minutes left.

“Nicolas, when I first met ya, I thought I knew everything there was to know about life. I thought I never wanted to settle down. I thought volleyball was my one true love,” he began.

Suna snorted. Meian was definitely obsessed with volleyball. He had the same drive that Atsumu did, something Suna would never feel. He loved the sport, of course, and it was his job, but he knew it wasn’t his _one true_ love. There were several things he loved more, in fact, like sleeping in, and blowjobs, and watching movies. Lots of things that didn’t require much effort on his part. 

“But gettin’ ta really know ya made me realize that you were who I wanted to talk to all the time,” Meian was saying. 

That was fair. Suna didn’t like to talk much, but he enjoyed talking to Komori, or, at least, listening to him when he was excited about something, so he could relate to Meian’s sentiments. Suna didn’t imagine that he was unique in feeling that way about his boyfriend, though. Was there anyone who didn’t want to talk to Komori all the time? He felt a little smug, privately, to know that it was him Komori chose to go to when he wanted to complain, to be negative. The shit they talked when it was just the two of them might get them kicked off the team if it ever got out. 

“You were who I wanted ta wake up beside in the mornin’,” he heard Meian say, voice full of emotion.

Thoughtlessly, he moved his hand to rest on Komori’s thigh closest to him, settling firm. Both of the couples next to them were touching, so he figured he might as well. Komori didn’t say anything, but he slid his hand under Suna’s, and Suna curled his fingers down through Komori’s. Speaking of waking up, he was already looking forward to getting in bed again later that night, holding Komori close like he would always rather be doing. He did quick mental math– if the reception ended at 11, and they went out drinking afterwards with Samu and Yamaguchi, they could be back in bed again in eight hours. Eight hours? Fuck. That was way too far away from now. 

At some point during his zoning out, Meian’s vows had ended and Nicolas had started speaking. 

“I think the only person who might love you more than me is Rubens," he said. Nicolas’ son shook his head and looked embarrassed, but his father ruffled his hair affectionately, and the crowd laughed. 

Right, Meian was becoming a stepfather, as well as a husband. He wondered if Komori had ever thought about kids, or if he’d accepted that he wouldn’t be able to have one. His gut twisted at the infuriating thought that even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t be able to adopt a child under Japan’s current discriminatory laws. Not that he wanted to. It would just be cute, he thought, to have someone to teach volleyball to at the park. When Komori wasn’t looking, he’d whisper _you’d make a good blocker. Don’t tell daddy I said that_. Komori would overhear him and snap _she’s going to be a libero!_

He chuckled to himself, along with the audience. Maybe the laws would change someday. He turned his head to look at Komori, who was smiling wide as he listened to the grooms’ words to each other. Komori glanced back at him for a second, and Suna decided that he’d pull a baby out of thin air if he ever asked him for one. 

It was a harmless daydream; it didn’t mean anything. He was getting ahead of himself imagining having a kid with someone who he didn’t even think ‘loved’ him, whatever that meant. He squeezed Komori’s hand, then let go, crossing his arms over his chest again and snapping out of it to focus on the rest of Nicolas’ vows. He was itching to get into cocktail hour. He should have taken shots before this.

"You will forever be my silver lining on the hardest days. You will forever be my sea breeze on the brightest– you will forever be mine, meu amor,” Nicolas finished.

The officiant allowed them to share their first kiss as husbands, and the crowd cheered. Suna was smiling, because Meian and Nicolas looked happy, completely starstruck for each other as they walked down the aisle together, hand in hand.

After settling down, the guests moved to file back into the hotel and make their way to the cocktail hour space. 

“That was so gay,” Suna joked to Komori as they shuffled out of their row.

Komori elbowed him in the side. “So are you, bottom bitch,” he teased, tone suggestive of their morning activities. 

Suna snorted and pinched his butt. “Your ass is grass tonight, Komori-kun,” rescinding the use of his nickname to mock his own seriousness.

They followed Osamu and Yamaguchi out of the conservatory and into the atrium of the hotel, where there were opposing bars on each wall that the guests flocked to. The six of them congregated around a small circular standing table. Suna was about to make a beeline for the bar when a server walked by carrying champagne. He grabbed two glasses. He downed one, intending to keep the second as his next drink, but then he saw that look in Komori’s eyes, beaming up at him, like he wasn’t expecting anything at all. And he probably wasn’t.

“Here,” Suna said, handing him the full flute. 

Komori smiled. “Thanks!” he replied cheerfully, taking the glass and sipping on it politely, like a normal person who wasn’t trying to get drunk as soon as possible would do. 

Of course he thanked Suna for the bare minimum of grabbing an extra glass of champagne for him, which was actually supposed to be for himself. Komori didn’t expect anything from him. But not in the ‘you’ve let me down so many times that I don’t believe in you anymore’ way that his past partners had ended up feeling about him; in the ‘I trust you to be good to me and whatever you do is enough’ way. 

He slipped his arm behind Komori’s lower back, resting his hand on his hip. He normally wasn’t one for touching this much public, but he was in the mood today, or something. He half listened to Kita and Sakusa’s retelling of the bachelor party they’d gone to. 

Komori leaned into his side naturally. While Kita started explaining something that Suna wasn’t paying attention to, Komori turned his head and glanced up at him, with an adorable ‘I noticed that you’re doing something out of the ordinary and I really like it’ expression and a smile. He returned to the conversation a moment later, chiming in and saying, “Wait, Atsumu did what?”

It had been a little more than four months since their first time together, back in Suna’s apartment, messy drunk and objectively bad. They hadn’t even actually had sex that night, just sloppy kissing, grabbing, touching, falling asleep with most of their clothes on. ‘This was just a one time thing,’ they’d agreed. ‘Let’s not be awkward at practice, alright?’ After their next team win, it wasn’t long before they were making out in the back of a taxi on the way to his place again. And then they’d started texting each other, ‘Come back with me later?’ hours before they even got to the bar. And then it wasn’t just after wins, it was on Mondays, it was on Sundays, and it had become more than a physical relationship. 

So here they were, today. In the past, instead of admitting his mistakes, he’d taken the easy way out, letting people abandon him to avoid hurting them more. And a little bit because he was scared to let someone become his primary source of happiness and then lose them. But with Komori, an even scarier possibility had been that he’d never get the chance to be closer to him. So Suna told him everything, and in return found someone willing to trust him and believe in him. Seeing himself through the lens of Komori’s love made him believe in himself, too.

Well, not ‘love’. They didn’t even–

“Hey, Iizuna’s over there! We should go say hi!” 

Komori was pointing across the room at the blonde Hornets setter, showing Sakusa. Sakusa nodded and swallowed a sip of his drink. 

“Oh, yeah, I was talking to him before the ceremony. He asked about you, you should,” Sakusa replied, before flashing Suna a pointed stare that he wasn’t sure of the meaning behind.

Suna tried not to be a jealous guy, and he knew that Komori was with him now, but it certainly wasn’t a dream of his to chat with Iizuna. The social drain he felt just from being in a room with so many people was already more than he could handle, let alone talking to Komori’s ex and not-so-long-ago payback lover (a story for another day).

He looked down at Komori, feeling a bit vulnerable and squeezing his hip as a silent question. 

Komori smiled and stepped away from him, then slipped his hand into Suna’s, interlocking their fingers and holding on tight. 

“You coming?” he asked, cocking his head and pulling Suna a half step away from their table. 

Suna stuffed his other hand in his pocket and shrugged. “Sure,” he said. If Komori had any reassuring words, he didn’t share them with Suna now. Maybe he couldn’t tell that Suna was nervous. He probably assumed Suna was totally chill, exactly how he was trying to make it seem with his relaxed posture and non expressive face. 

Iizuna set his drink down in pleasant surprise when they walked up to him. Suna gave him a tight smile and Komori dropped Suna’s hand, opening his arms for a hug.

“Hey! Didn’t know you’d be here!” Komori said excitedly, wrapping his arms around Iizuna and patting his back in a short hug. Iizuna smiled. Suna pushed his tongue against the inside of his teeth, hard, slipping his now free hand into his right pocket and glancing around the room for a distraction. 

“Same with you! I guess it’s pretty much the V.League wedding of the year, though, already seen lots of other players. How are you? It’s been a few months,” Iizuna said, leaning his elbow on the table. Suna did not like to imagine Iizuna thinking about the last time he’d seen Komori. _He screams for_ my _dick now, bitch._ He looked away again.

“I’m good! Great, actually. Like, really great. And you? How do you know the couple?” Komori asked.

“Oh, uh, I’m good, yeah, I know them because– uh– I’m just a friend of Romero’s, we’ve done some camps together,” Iizuna replied, scratching the back of his head. “Anyways, uh, you’re on Raijin, right? I recognize you too,” Iizuna said, nodding at Suna and changing the subject. 

Suna blinked and failed to form a response. He swiveled his head as Komori threaded his arm through his and clutched his jacket sleeve. 

“Yeah, I actually introduced him to you at the bar that night, but we were pretty drunk, so if you don’t remember I can’t blame you,” Komori said, laughing. “This is Suna, my boyfriend.” He tilted his head slightly, letting his temple rest on Suna’s shoulder. 

Iizuna looked surprised, but happy. “Oh! Yeah, I remember! Middle blocker, right? Wow, good for you guys! I didn’t want to say anything ‘cause I didn’t know, but you’re actually really cute together,” he said sheepishly, holding a hand over his heart while he chuckled.

“Hi, nice to meet you again,” Suna finally interjected, looking at him like he was a bug on his shoe despite his compliment and friendly intentions. He moved his arm behind Komori, slipping his fingers into his back pocket. 

Iizuna looked a little thrown off by his glare, which Suna was pleased by. “So, uh, what about you guys? How do you know them?” Iizuna asked, picking up his drink.

“I met Meian-san through Kiyo first, he’s a great guy. Actually, he went to Suna’s high school. Years before he did, but, apparently he did some assistant coaching when you were there, right?” Komori said, glancing up at Suna and prodding him in the side with his elbow, signalling for him to speak.

Suna knew he could only rely on Komori as a social crutch for so long before he’d have to chime in. He nodded. “Yeah, he did. He actually taught me a lot, encouraged me to go pro, helped me decide between offers, and stuff.”

“Ah, that’s really nice, he’s a great blocker, too,” Iizuna said kindly.

Komori smiled. “Hey, well, it was nice seeing you. I’ll find you later, okay? We’ll probably go out after, so see you there!”

Iizuna pursed his lips. “Yeah, nice to catch up, er, I’m not sure if I’ll go out, but yeah, see you guys later,” he said. 

Suna nodded back and then Komori was pulling him away, tugging on his hand and bringing him back to their table. Suna didn’t say anything. He suddenly felt like he didn’t deserve to be holding Komori’s hand, or at this wedding with him, but he kept these thoughts to himself. 

Komori came to a stop as they passed the corner of the bar.

“You want another drink?” Suna asked.

Komori ignored him and tapped on his wrist, asking Suna to hold his other hand too. Suna sighed and obliged, letting Komori interlock their fingers and step close to him, pressing their chests together. Suna craned his head down to look at him. 

“Sorry, I know that sucked, but he’s still my friend,” Komori said. “I wanted him to meet you properly. As my boyfriend.”

Suna shrugged and looked away. “Huh? It was fine. I don’t care about stuff like that. We already talked about him. It’s fine,” he said dismissively. He wriggled his hands away from Komori’s, stepping backwards to separate. “Drink? Or no? We should go back to our table, I think I left my phone.”

Komori moved towards him again, linking his fingers behind Suna’s neck and letting his elbows drop in between them loosely. Suna reached up to tug on his wrists. “People are looking,” he muttered, glancing around at the other guests.

“Hey,” Komori said, seriously.

Suna met his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides lamely. “What?” he said, staring at Komori’s shirt collar.

“I’m all yours,” Komori said quietly, and Suna could feel his gaze burning. He swallowed and looked up.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, softening from the way Komori looked at him affectionately. “I’m sorry, I could have been nicer, I just… I don’t know.”

“You were fine,” Komori said, rubbing his thumb up and down the back of his neck. Suna’s mouth twitched and he slipped his hands forward, resting them on Komori’s hips. “I want you. That’s why I’m dating you. I’m really, really happy, I don’t think you even know.”

Suna cracked a grin. “I’m happy too,” he said. 

Komori leaned up and kissed him, which Suna would have been embarrassed by with this many people around, but he liked it right now. He kissed him back softly, just for a few seconds, before Komori pulled away.

“Okay, let’s go back and find your phone,” he said, using his head to nudge Suna’s shoulder. He pressed his fingers against the front of Suna’s shirt, flicking the lower buttons. “You are, by the way,” he said casually. His fingers slid down further, resting on the top edge of Suna’s belt. 

“I’m what?” Suna said, raising an eyebrow and rubbing Komori’s lower back with one hand. 

“Bigger.”

“Well yeah, he’s what, six foot? I wasn’t– ah.”

Komori pressed his left hip into Suna, closing off the view against the bar from any onlookers as he dropped a hand and palmed the front of Suna’s pants. “Bigger here,” he whispered, leaning close to Suna’s ear before removing his hand. Suna bit his lip and Komori giggled. “Can you give it to me later? I miss it,” he said, lowering his voice.

Suna had just fucked him last night but he’d be damned if he didn’t believe Komori really missed it with the way he was looking at him right now. “Fuck, maybe I don’t wanna wait that long,” he said.

Komori smiled and tapped the tip of his nose with his index finger. “Let’s go back. Your hair’s gonna look stupid if we have sex here. Later.”

Suna groaned as Komori grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the bar back to their friends. But he smiled when Komori wasn’t looking, walking a half step ahead of him. 

He didn’t need to know if his dick was bigger than Iizuna’s, and for all he knew Komori could be lying, but he was always surprised that Komori knew exactly how to pick him back up. It was one of those teeny anxieties in the back of his head, something that didn’t matter, and he’d never say it out loud. It was a stupid guy thing to even care about. 

But more importantly, Komori was his, and he was Komori’s, and it felt especially satisfying to be reminded of that today. Every day with Komori felt like he’d conned him into dating him, but getting away with it was so sweet. 

He was starting to think, too, that maybe it wasn’t a con after all, and that Komori knew exactly who he was, and liked him anyways, intentionally, deliberately.

* * *

Dinner had gone smoothly so far. The food was amazing– Brazillian classics as an homage to Nicolas’ home country. Bobó de camarão, coxinha, caruru, pirão, churrasco served espeto corrido, and many other dishes that Suna lost track of the names of, unable to keep up with what the menu said was in front of him.

“It’s a shame I’m vegetarian,” he sighed dramatically as the first meat dish was served. 

Osamu scoffed. “You ate yakiniku with us last night.”

“That was my evil twin. I don’t know what he did.”

Komori nodded enthusiastically, corroborating his story. “He was on a date with _my_ evil twin.”

Osamu frowned. “Suna, if you had a twin, I’m pretty sure you would be the evil one, not the other guy.”

“Yeah, same with Komori,” Sakusa added. “Rotten to the core.”

Suna and Komori snickered behind their napkins.

They were seated, again, with Sakusa, Kita, Osamu, and Yamaguchi, as well as Iwaizumi, who was their friend through National Team membership. He was a great guy, someone that all of the players looked up to and could go to for advice, trusting his sensibility and maturity. 

So when Iwaizumi turned to Suna out of the blue and asked _him_ for advice, it was the least he could do to hear him out. He was contemplating confessing to someone whose identity he refused to reveal. After Suna’s poor attempt at helping him, Komori had jumped in and saved the day, offering the perfect encouraging words, like he always did. 

“You know what, I think I’m going to do it,” Iwaizumi said confidently, though slightly slurred. Suna raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Alright!” Komori said happily, smiling. Iwaizumi didn’t smile back, which made Suna wary of what his current intentions were. Iwaizumi stood up from his chair abruptly.

“Oh, shit, you mean like, now? Are they here?” Suna asked. He wasn’t too concerned with stopping him from leaving the table. It would be entertaining to see how this played out. 

“Yup,” Iwaizumi said. He walked away from the table and towards the stage. 

Their entire table, and the rest of the guests, watched with mortified faces as he grabbed the mic from Atsumu, who was about to begin his best man speech.

“God, Atsumu’s such a melt,” Suna whispered to Komori while they watched. 

Iwaizumi was babbling about himself. He turned to face the grooms. Atsumu looked like he wanted to vomit.

“And like, I’m so happy you guys are getting married. Truly. So happy that this couple who've only known each other for just a few years are getting married!” Iwaizumi said, clearly sarcastically towards the end. 

“Jesus. They’ve gotta stop him soon,” Komori whispered back to Suna, covering his mouth to hide his laughter. 

Sakusa and Kita were still looking on in horror too, but glancing at each other across the table as they all silently thought _holy shit_. Sakusa looked extremely disappointed. Osamu reappeared from wherever he had gone off to, taking a seat and raising an eyebrow at Suna in concern for the scene unfolding. Suna shrugged. Kita looked confused. Yamaguchi was MIA.

“No, seriously! This is just like, so amazing. You know? And, hey. Next thing you know, it’ll be like, I don’t know, Bokuto and Akaashi-kun! They’ll be getting married,” Iwaizumi continued, gesturing vaguely to where their other teammate and his date must be sitting. Suna made a note to find them at some point and say hello.

“That’s cute,” Komori cooed, smiling at the thought of Bokuto and his boyfriend, who were one of the National Team’s favorite couples to gush over. “I miss Akaashi-kun. Let’s go talk to them later,” he said, somehow echoing Suna’s thoughts. 

“And then it’ll be Komori and Suna-san! And that’s amazing. It’s really hard to get married. But I’m so happy for you. All of you who are getting married. Good for you.”

“Wait, what?” Suna sputtered, not sure if he’d heard that right.

“Something you’re not telling us?” Sakusa said, corners of his eyes crinkling, and Suna could imagine the asshole smirk he was sporting under his mask.

“That hurts, man. Thought I’d be the first t’know. Can’t believe ya told Iwaizumi-san before me,” Osamu teased.

Suna tried to stay cool, but he was panicking a little. “We’re not getting married,” he said flatly, picking up his water and taking a drink. He sucked in an ice cube and stuffed it in his cheek.

“Fuck you too, I guess,” Komori said with distaste next to him, sticking his tongue out and making an irritated face.

“Ass. You’d be lucky to marry him,” Sakusa added, continuing to poke fun at Suna.

Suna’s eyes widened slightly. He touched Komori’s shoulder. The rest of the table went back to watching Iwaizumi, but Suna wasn’t listening to the speech anymore.

“Baby, I’m kidding, I mean, we’re only 25, I can’t say that we’re gonna get married, you know that, right? That doesn’t mean I don’t like you, I just–”

Komori was giggling. He set his hand on Suna’s thigh and squeezed it reassuringly. “Oh my god, stop. I’m just pushing your buttons. It’s cute. You feeling okay? How much did you drink? God, you’re so adorable sometimes.” 

Suna relaxed, now feeling slightly ridiculous, and frowned. He let go of Komori’s shoulder. “Fuck, you scared me with that.”

“Huh? What, you thought I was actually mad at you, or something?”

“I don’t know. I guess,” Suna said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his ankles below the table. “Nah, it’s just, being at a wedding and all, the vibe, I guess– kinda has me in my head a little,” he admitted, chuckling at himself.

“About what?” Komori probed.

“About what, what?”

“What are you in your head about?”

Suna looked at him. Komori had his head tilted a little to the side, eyes glinting with mischief. He knew he was getting under Suna’s skin, and he was going to milk it for all it was worth. Suna sighed.

He’d been thinking about a lot of things that day.

“Nothing. Just that I like you,” he said, leaning forward to plop a kiss on Komori’s cheek. Not a complete lie. He hoped a little bit of affection would get Komori off his case. He really didn’t want to tell him right now that he’d been thinking about him all day, about how _much_ he liked him, about how he’d calculated the hours until they could be in bed together again, about how they’d gotten together in the first place, about how happy he’d been every day since. “Hey, they’re about to dance. Let’s watch.”

“Ooh!” Komori said, whipping his head around to look at the floor. Nicolas and Romero were having their first dance, seemingly unaffected by the slight interruption to their evening that was Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, athletic trainer. 

Once they had finished, the band transitioned into something more upbeat, and guests started moving to join them on the floor. Suna flashed Komori a small approving smile as Komori encouraged Osamu to get up and dance with him (‘Let’s find Yamaguchi-kun!’). They’d already discussed that Suna wasn’t going to dance, and Komori hadn’t even made him feel guilty for it. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed, or didn’t like dancing, but by this point in the night, he had known he’d be socially exhausted. He had also known that he wouldn’t want to leave Komori there by himself and go back to their room, because he’d like watching him dance and checking in with him every once in a while when he came back over for a drink. He was perfectly content to slowly recharge at the table, sitting quietly on his phone, and Komori was understanding of what Suna needed as always. 

He looked like he was having a great time, whenever Suna glanced up from his phone, or set it down completely to watch him for a few minutes. Osamu and Yamaguchi were pretty awkward dancers, and Sakusa and Kita were glued to each other, but Komori was acting like he knew everyone in the crowd, even swinging around with Nicolas and Meian for a turn at one point. Maybe he did know everyone in the crowd; Suna wouldn’t be surprised. Atsumu came over to keep Suna company at one point (read: boast about his matchmaking skills), and Suna had the unexpected pleasure of taking him down a notch (one of his favorite pastimes). He was starting to feel more relaxed and comfortable again as the band went off stage and the DJ came out, and he looked up places near the hotel to head out for drinks after the reception ended with Osamu and Yamaguchi. 

Osamu was walking back towards him, wiping his brow with his shirt sleeve.

“Hey, you want anything from the bar? Think I’m done for the night, can’t keep up,” Osamu said, chuckling and checking his phone that he’d left on the table.

“Sure, just a beer, thanks,” Suna said. He’d had a few drinks over the last two hours on his own, pacing himself to ensure he stayed pleasantly drunk but not getting hammered. The night was still young. 

Osamu nodded and set his phone down again before heading to the bar. They both preferred Sapporo over Asahi Super Dry, as did Atsumu, probably from developing their taste for alcohol together after graduating high school, knocking back cans of different varieties on innumerable occasions over the years until they’d settled on one brand. Again, maybe it was just the wedding that was making him sentimental, but he briefly pictured the three of them 20 years from now, bodies worn in and softened, complaining about their spouses with a Sapporo in hand. He smiled.

Osamu returned, setting two beer bottles on the table and sitting down in the seat next to him, letting out a relaxed sigh and stretching his legs out. He gulped down some water before picking up the beer, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“So, how’s that going?” Suna asked, nodding at where Komori and Yamaguchi were laughing and spinning around each other on the dance floor. He’d already taken a few photos of them from afar, zooming in on Komori’s ecstatic face and chuckling to himself.

“Good, it’s good, but…” Osamu trailed off and ran a hand through his hair.

“But you don’t see it going anywhere? Or what?” Suna asked, taking a swig from his bottle and puckering as the carbonation hit his tongue. 

“No, I mean, I really like him. Like, a lot. He’s… he’s great,” Osamu replied.

He seemed conflicted, and Suna had a guess why. “Yeah? Good, man, I’m happy for you. But you haven’t locked it down, right?” Suna said, thinking back to when he’d asked Komori to be his boyfriend. He imagined Osamu might be going through a similar dilemma. Hopefully less angsty. He smiled and glanced back at Komori on the dance floor, distracted, but Osamu’s gaze was drifting over to their dates too.

“Nah, not yet. I don’t know what I’m waitin’ for, y’know? I really want to, but I feel like it could fuck things up between us somehow. But that’s kinda stupid, huh,” Osamu said, chuckling.

Suna snorted. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Trust me, it’s stupid,” he said. He’d been stupid for a long time before he realized that he wanted to always have Komori close to him. 

“What about you? Things goin’ okay?” Osamu asked, changing the subject suddenly.

Suna nodded, taking another drink from his beer. Komori was dancing on Yamaguchi, blue and purple lights swirling across his skin and white shirt as he shouted something. His jacket remained draped on the back of the chair next to Suna, a placeholder. “Yeah. He’s pretty amazing,” Suna said. 

Komori separated from Yamaguchi, face lighting up when he saw two little girls dancing together next to him. He leaned down to talk to them and they giggled as he wiggled his eyebrows. He extended his hands, letting them grab on, and then started dancing around in a circle with them, staying crouched to their level the whole time. 

“He seems really cool. Probably the first person you’ve dated I actually liked, to be honest.” Osamu laughed. “I’m really happy for you too. You deserve someone good like that.”

Suna glanced over at him, a small smile creeping on his face, before looking back at Komori. It was hard to take his eyes away for too long. 

“Yeah, I… guess I do.”

It felt strange to say it out loud. When they’d gotten together, he’d thought for sure that he didn’t deserve Komori. But Komori made him feel like he was the kind of person who _did_ deserve to be with him. Like he could be the guy who gets a happy ending. He made Suna comfortable. Always warm. He was someone that he wasn’t afraid to be himself around, even on his worst days. He was the first person he wanted to talk to when he woke up, like Meian said about Nicolas– Suna loved waking up with him already in his arms, so he could pull him close and murmur ‘Good morning’ in his ear. He loved watching him when he was happy, like right now, swaying to the music. He loved having someone who stood up for him and protected him, and he wanted to stand up for and protect Komori too.

Huh.

He smiled, feeling suddenly content, and looked at Osamu again, who appeared lost in thought himself. “You do, too. Deserve to be happy. You should ask him. You know he’ll say yes.”

Osamu set down his beer on the table. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“Do it tonight,” Suna prompted him, taking a sip of his beer while he opened his phone and tapped something into the song request form. “Don’t make an excuse, Samu,” he added, predicting what his friend would say when he sensed him opening his mouth to speak without looking up from his phone.

“I wasn’t gonna.”

“Sure.”

They finished their beers together, continuing to chat about where they should go after this, Suna offering suggestions from the research he’d been doing and comparing reviews. They laughed about Iwaizumi’s crazy speech, and Suna recounted the story of Atsumu’s failed attempt at playing Cupid for Sakusa and Kita that he’d found out about firsthand just before Osamu had come back from the dance floor.

He sat with an empty bottle when he heard the notes of the piano ring out, and gave Osamu one more look before standing up and adjusting his jacket.

“Ask him. I gotta go talk to mine,” he said. Osamu nodded and Suna turned to walk towards the floor. 

Komori was heading back towards the table, pulling Yamaguchi with him, most likely to take a break during the slow song. 

Suna met him halfway, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him with the other stuffed in his pocket. 

“Do you wanna dance with me?” he asked quietly, smiling at him as Elvis Presley’s voice rang out in the reception hall. He felt strangely calm, like he was in the eye of a storm.

Komori beamed and let go of Yamaguchi’s arm. Yamaguchi glanced at Suna and nodded awkwardly before heading back to where Osamu was sitting.

“No way, really? Yeah,” he said. His eyes crinkled with joy, the tip of his nose was red– as were his cheeks from a night spent dancing and the flush of alcohol. 

Suna took his hand assuredly and then a step towards the floor. “C’mon then.”

When they found a space to sway together in, Komori gravitated towards him, leaving a few inches between their chests. His arms reached up around Suna, one finger twirling the hair at the base of his neck. He looked happy high off of the atmosphere from the evening.

Suna linked his hands behind Komori’s lower back loosely. They rotated slowly to the music.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna dance,” Komori said, grinning and craning his neck to touch their noses together. 

“I wasn’t,” Suna answered, tilting his head down to do the same. 

Komori didn’t say anything, just smiled and let his head fall forward to rest against Suna’s shoulder, face tucked under his chin. Suna pulled him closer, rubbing a hand on his upper back.

“I requested this song,” he said as casually as possible, entering into unfamiliar territory with a simple statement. Unfamiliar, but still natural, and it felt right.

“Hmm…” Komori hummed, shifting his head slightly. “Didn’t think you liked music like this.”

“It’s a good song,” Suna replied, settling his hands again at the small of his back. He tilted his head to the side, resting his cheek against the top of Komori’s head. Tawny hair tickled him.

“Hey, Toya,” he said, swallowing. He couldn’t see Komori’s face where it was hidden away in his chest, but he wasn’t looking at the couples around them either. He was absorbed in feeling Komori against him, the way he fit in his arms and the weight of his head on his shoulder. He smelled like their hotel shampoo and the cologne he only wore for nights out and special occasions. Champagne that he’d spilled on his lap. Not scents that were familiar or routine, but it made Suna feel safe anyways.

“I–” 

He hesitated, choking his words back. Scared, momentarily, of what Komori might not say.

Komori lifted his face a little, nosing the underside of Suna’s jaw, maybe to encourage him, like he already knew what was happening. His arms dropped from Suna’s neck, and then his hands slipped under Suna’s jacket instead, sliding to hug around his back. Suna felt his nerves melting away as Komori’s broad palm rubbed soothingly up and down his spine. He decided that he didn’t care about what Komori wouldn’t say; he wanted to tell him anyways.

“I’m in love with you.”

He held his breath.

“Me too,” Komori mumbled instantly into his neck, and Suna became hyper aware of him again– the hair tickling his cheek, the hotel shampoo, the hands around his back.

“You’re in love with yourself?” Suna said, not knowing how to respond in a more romantic way. His voice was scratchy and unstable, a result of trying to inhale and speak at the same time.

Komori chuckled. “Yeah, but, with you too.”

Komori lifted his head, bringing their noses together again, blinking back at him and drawing his hands to rest at Suna’s sides, still under the jacket. They stopped swaying for a moment.

“You sure?” Suna asked. Just checking.

Komori grinned. “Yes.”

“Cool,” Suna huffed out.

Komori moved first, kissing him, and it made Suna wonder how long he’d loved him for, because the kiss felt the same as always. Like Komori was the center of the room, and perhaps now, Suna was too, in his arms.

Suna laughed. He raised his hands to hold both sides of Komori’s face, pushing his fingers back through his hair. The song was over, and had changed to something faster paced that the people around them were dancing appropriately to, but they stood there pretending like they couldn’t hear it.

“Actually? You mean it, right?” 

Komori narrowed his eyes. “Huh? Why wouldn’t I mean it? Did you not mean it? Of course I mean it,” he replied.

“Yeah, I do too, it’s just… huh, feels pretty good. Pretty cool. Like, you… _love_ me. I think.” 

“Is that how you’re gonna be about it? Am I gonna have to say it a billion times before you believe me? ‘Cause I will. You’re gonna get tired of hearing it. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Suna closed his eyes and brushed his thumbs across Komori’s cheeks. He smiled. Each time he said it felt like he was reaching into his chest and squeezing his heart with his bare hands. His face grew hot, and he opened his eyes to look at Komori, leaning his forehead against his.

“I don’t think I’ll get tired of it,” he said, kissing the tip of Komori’s nose.

“Just you wait. Anyways, c’mon. Let’s go sit down, I need another drink,” Komori said, taking Suna’s hand.

“Okay,” Suna said, and then let Komori lead him away.

Suna danced with Komori a few more times. They went out to drink with Osamu and Yamaguchi after the reception ended, and Suna for once thought he could have stayed out forever, because every hour he was awake was an hour he got to be in love with Komori Motoya. 

And yeah, it was pretty gay, but so what.

Toya, loved by everyone, loved Suna, so by like, the transitive property of inequality, that put Suna at the top of the love chain, right?

When they stumbled down the hallway together at 3 AM, Suna’s arm around Komori, Komori’s arm around Suna, he really felt like it was his happy ending. Or more like a happy beginning. He wasn’t sure what part of the story they were at, but he knew he was happy. 

They stripped down to their underwear, and crept into bed, too tired and drunk to care about washing off the events of the day. Pressed sloppy kisses to each other’s lips and faces that tasted like alcohol. Touched, stealing warmth from each other like they did every night, until they equilibrated. Inhaled from each other’s necks, burying their noses to find the scent of _him_ beneath everything else that had clung to them. Ah, there it was, just below the corner of his jaw. Toya.

Suna breathed in again.

“I love you,” Komori mumbled in the dark, into Suna’s hair.

Suna opened his eyes, grateful for his accomplice, the alarm clock, once again. He pulled his head back to his own pillow, and this time, Komori was looking back at him, still awake, not dreaming. 

“I love you too.”

Komori smiled, closing his eyes, and Suna watched him fall asleep. He had to be sure– sure that he was safe– before he let himself drift off too. And in the mornings, in turn, Komori would take watch, during his own secret viewings, waiting for Suna to open his eyes, to catch that honest first smile when he realized Komori was there. Like he hadn’t expected to see him across the mattress at all. 

They both hoped that they wouldn’t get caught looking.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> By the way, they are dancing to Can't Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley because they are cheeseballs
> 
> I am deeply sorry I didn't include bottom!Suna lmao, it was my intention to and I even wrote 2000 words for that scene, but it didn't make the final cut - I may be uploading that in a separate fic as a deleted scene special... 
> 
> Want to see what Romero and Nicolas get up to in their wedding suite later that night? How Atsumu thought he was playing Cupid? What Iwaizumi's outburst was about? What Osamu was thinking when he was talking to Suna?
> 
> Check out the other fics in the collection! There is also a Twitter [moment](https://twitter.com/i/events/1360693898172104710) where you can find each of our fic promo tweets.
> 
> Or, links to each fic here:  
> [RoMeian (nish)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29430087)  
> [SakuKita and AtsuOi (dindi)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436057)  
> [IwaSemi (esthie)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29442213)  
> [OsaYama (emma)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29432892)


End file.
